Someday
by Lorena1
Summary: Sydney gets a call from Vaughn on Christmas Eve. What could he possibly want?


**Someday**

Summary: Sydney receives a call from Vaughn on Christmas Eve. S/V pairing. 

Rating: PG

Author's note: I wasn't planning on writing a new fic, but this idea just wouldn't leave me alone and so I decided to take a break from 'Fairy Tale'. I hope you like this and don't forget to review, please. It means a lot to me knowing that there are people out there reading my stuff.

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You can watch the drops of water fall. It's been raining like this since you left your house. A year ago, you would have said that Francie was surprised to see you leave on Christmas Eve. Now, after all that has happened, you don't think you would be able to surprise her that easily. Will, on the other hand, hadn't been surprised at all. He had understood, just like he had so many months ago, when you had told him the truth about your job. The truth about your life. The truth about who you really are. _I don't love you for what you do. I just love you. His words still echoed in your head. And he had meant it. You knew that. _

As you're driving in your car, you can see through your window some people walking down the streets. Most of them are buying last minute gifts. They probably forgot about an aunt coming over for dinner or a friend's son. Thankfully, you don't have to worry about that. You have everything ready. When you come back, your friends will already be there and your father will arrive shortly. He will greet you with that strange smile he often uses and you will pretend, just for that night, that you have a normal life and that your father probably had a rough day at his normal work that morning, which is why he doesn't look as happy as the others. For a brief moment, your mind starts wondering where your mother is and what she'll do tonight. However, the musical laugh from a little girl walking down the street with her father reaches your ears and brings you back to reality. You shouldn't be thinking about this.

You bring your car to a stop and, as you wait for the light to change, you can see some people singing an old Christmas carol in the corner of the street. You remember how your mother used to sing that song to you and how your father would smile seeing the two of you together next to the big Christmas tree. Again, you remind yourself that you shouldn't be thinking about this. Your mother died many years ago. Laura Bristow died in a car accident. Irina Derevko is not your mother. 

Suddenly, you feel the urge to cry. You cry for what you lost. You cry for what you can't have. You just cry. You realize how good it feels to break down like this. A couple of minutes later, your tears stop falling and you find that your eyes are not puffy and red anymore. You also realize that the light has changed, after you manage to see a faint green through your glassy eyes. You regain your composure and drive away. You'll get there soon enough.

Once you reach the warehouse, your head is filled with thoughts of Vaughn. It doesn't surprise you, though. You knew this would happen. It always happens at some point of the day. No matter how hard you tried to block these thoughts today, you find yourself failing miserably. You step out of your car and close the door loudly. The rain is still falling. It annoys you. You always wanted a white Christmas. 

You check your watch. It's six o'clock. Vaughn must be there already. For the first time since you left your house, you wonder what he wants and come to the conclusion that this can't possibly be work-related. As you enter the warehouse, you can see his shadow. He has his back at you. You whisper his name and he turns around. You expect him to smile, but he doesn't. 

"Hey." He greets you and you can finally see his lips curving up. And he smiles.

You return the smile, unsure of what so say.

"Hey." Your voice comes out as a whisper.

He takes a step closer and suddenly, the air in the room feels heavy.

"You're probably wondering why I called you." He says tentatively.

You nod, not knowing what else to do.

He takes a deep breath and continues, "The reason I called you… it's not work-related." He looks down, afraid of what your reaction will be.

You smile, "I figured as much."

The relief is evident in his face, "I… I forgot to give you your Christmas present."

He hands you a small box. You take it and, as you're about to open it, you feel his hands stop you. 

"Later." He tells you and you obey.

You'll find out later what it is. You'll put it next to your other presents under the tree and you'll open this small box first. Everyone will be surprised to see this wooden box and you will explain. _Oh, this guy from work gave it to me. You will try to sound casual, but your eyes will betray you. Your father will show his displeasure because he'll know who gave it to you. A look of jealously will cross over Will's features, but he'll mask it quickly. And Francie… she'll be just Francie. She'll smile and tease you about it. And you… you will be left speechless when you see the small porcelain angel accompanied by a note from Vaughn: __Merry Christmas, Syd. Your guardian angel._

Now you're aware of the physical contact between you two. You know this isn't right. You shouldn't be getting presents from your handler. He shouldn't be touching you like he is now. You try to find the strength to pull away, but you can't. Instead, he squeezes your hand and looks at you in the eye. This should be the part where he kisses you, but he holds back.

"It's been a rough year." He begins and you know he's mostly referring to your mother. "I want you to know that no matter what happens, no matter how difficult things get… I'm here. I'll always be here for you, Syd."

You wish he would take you in his arms and whisper words of eternal love in your ear, but you know that it won't happen. At least for now. So you'll just have to settle for this. Maybe next Christmas…

"Thank you." You tell him sincerely, lost in his emerald eyes. 

He gives you another smile, obviously pleased. 

"Vaughn." You call out his name softly, "I'm here, too… if you ever need to talk… I'm here. I'm your ally, too. Never question that." You repeat the words he once said to you and smile.

You both stand there in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company because you know this moment will be over soon. It's always like this. It's just another moment of weakness. One of those moments when neither of you find the will to pretend you feel nothing more than friendship for the other. One of those moments when you can look at him freely, not having to worry about him catching you staring.

You know what's going through his head. You know he wants to kiss you. You have known that for a while now. You want to kiss him, too. You need to feel his lips touching yours. Unconsciously, you wet your lips. His eyes follow the movements of your tongue and he does the same. Then his eyes dart back to your face.

"Someday." That's all he says, but you catch the meaning behind that word. It's a promise of the future. The future you two will have someday.

You smile. He seems to have that effect on you. A lot.

"Someday." You repeat softly with a strange combination of sadness and happiness at the same time..

You then realize that he's still holding your hand. His index finger is drawing small circles in your skin and you can't help closing your eyes and giving in to your feelings for brief instants. Then you pull back.

"I have to go." You sound regretful. "Everybody is waiting for me at home."

You want to ask him where he'll spend Christmas Eve, but something stops you. 

His green eyes find your brown ones and you can see so many emotions there. You decide that the eyes are, indeed, the windows to the soul and for a moment, just for a moment, you think you can see love shining there.

"Merry Christmas, Syd." He tells you before you leave.

You smile again, "Merry Christmas, Michael." 

You're surprised at how easily his name slips from your tongue and you wonder if, after tonight is over, you'll call him by his first name again. 

Once you step outside, you realize that it is still pouring and can't help but look up. You always did that as a child. You stay like that for a while, just letting the drops of water comfort you and wash your pain away. Then, you get into your car and drive home.

_Someday._

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Author's note: Did you like it? Did you hate it? C'mon, tell me what you think. I love hearing what you guys have to say. Pretty please? Oh, before I go, I just want to whish you all Merry Christmas.

Lorena 


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